


Stuck In The Hub

by Itneveroccurredtomeatall



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hot Chocolate, Team Bonding, The Hub (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itneveroccurredtomeatall/pseuds/Itneveroccurredtomeatall
Summary: “What? So, we’re just going to spend the night here?” Owen asked with a distinctly sour expression on his face.“Looks like you’ll have to,” Jack said with a shrug. “It’s too late for you to leave now. The snow’s already nearly a meter and a half deep and they won’t bring out the plows until tomorrow morning. And that’s assuming the workers can actually get to work with all the unplowed streets.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: 2020 Holiday Exchange





	Stuck In The Hub

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Celstese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celstese/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this!!! Happy holidays and end of 2020!! (This is from prompt #1 - Winter season - Tosh stuck in the Hub with the team - Hot cacao - fic or art!) ((Thanks for the prompts!!))

It had been a long day at Torchwood.

To be fair, most days at Torchwood went past the typical nine-to-five. Working late was just part of the job - the Torchwood lifestyle - and Tosh knew that. They all did. But today had been unusually long and incredibly challenging.

Not only had there been a massive rift spike at 4:30 in the morning that had pulled the whole team in to the Hub several hours early, but there had also been an incident with a Hoix around lunchtime, a particularly persistent tourist who had managed to wander into the Hub, forcing Ianto to administer a small dose of retcon while making small talk over a cup of coffee and recommending different hiking trails in the area, and a weevil attack shortly after sunset.

And now, to top it all off, the Hub was freezing. 

Tosh frowned as she surveyed the Hub looking for the source of the sudden draft. The cog wheel door was firmly shut and the platform was in place which ruled out the usual suspects. 

She pulled her sweater a little tighter and sighed before pushing her chair back from her desk and crossing the Hub to the Ianto and Jack were gathered around a monitor.

“Hey, Tosh,” Ianto said as he moved forward, blocking her view of the screen. 

She could just make out Jack closing several windows over Ianto’s shoulder.

“Hey, Tosh,” Jack echoed as he straightened up and flashed her a winning grin. “What’s up?” 

“Is it just me, or is it cold in here?” she asked, electing to ignore whatever shenanigans they had been getting up to on the computer. They deserved their privacy and, besides, she had the feeling that she  _ really _ didn’t want to know. 

“Now that you mention it, it is a little cold in here,” Jack said. 

“I have a spare jacket up in the tourist’s office, if you’d like,” Ianto offered.

Tosh flashed him a grateful smile. “If you wouldn’t mind….” 

“I’ve got a sweatshirt,” Owen said. 

She turned to find Owen clutching a grey sweatshirt which he thrust out toward her. 

She blushed as she accepted it. “Thanks, Owen.”

“Just thought it would be closer to your size than one of Tea Boy’s jackets.”

Tosh pulled the sweatshirt on over her head. “It’s a perfect fit,” she told Owen with a slight smile as she fixed her hair. 

He gave a short nod. “It’s no problem, Tosh. Really.” Then he turned to Jack and Ianto. “What were you two muppets looking so intently at over here?”

Jack and Ianto exchanged a quick glance.

“The weather forecast,” Jack said finally. 

Owen frowned as if he didn’t believe it and Tosh couldn’t blame him. She didn’t either.

“Right…” he said slowly. “So?”

“It’s really coming down hard out there,” Ianto said smoothly. “The weather channel is predicting it’ll be the largest recorded snowfall in the past century.” 

“Bloody wonderful,” Gwen called out wryly as she stood and made her way across the Hub towards them, her footsteps echoing across the space. 

“I don’t think any of you should be driving out there,” Jack told them all.

“What? So, we’re just going to spend the night here?” Owen asked with a distinctly sour expression on his face. 

“Looks like you’ll have to,” Jack said with a shrug. “It’s too late for you to leave now. The snow’s already nearly a meter and a half deep and they won’t bring out the plows until tomorrow morning. And that’s assuming the workers can actually get to work with all the unplowed streets.” 

“Bloody wonderful,” Owen said. “You know, I do actually have a life outside of this.” He made a vague gesture which encompassed Tosh, Gwen, Jack, Ianto, and a good portion of the Hub.

“Well, you’ll have to put it on hold for tonight,” Jack said. “And that’s an order.” 

Tosh resisted the urge to snort at that. Sure, Jack was technically their boss and, yes, he had been at Torchwood for longer than any of them, but they’d always viewed Jack’s orders as optional, for better or worse.

“There are some sleeping bags and cots downstairs that I can bring up,” Ianto informed them, “and someone can take the couch.” 

“Right,” Gwen said. “I’ve got to call Rhys. Let him know not to expect me tonight.” 

“Give him my love,” Jack said with a grin which Gwen returned. 

“Will do,” she said as she offered Jack a slight salute, prompting a laugh from him. 

Gwen crossed to her desk, slid her mobile from her pocket, and dialed Rhys. 

Even though the Hub was a large, cavernous place, it was eerily silent during Gwen’s call and Tosh and the others could hear every detail of Gwen’s conversation. She glanced around to find that Owen, Jack, and Ianto were all looking away but also, quite obviously, listening in on Gwen’s call. 

Rhys picked up on the first ring. 

“Are you alright?” came Rhys’ panicked voice over the line. “Should I be driving to the nearest hospital to see which bed you’re in for the night?” 

It was sweet, Tosh thought, how concerned Rhys was. How ready he was to drop everything and drive to see Gwen, even in a blizzard - the largest one in a century, if the weather channel was to be believed - if needed. 

“Rhys, no, no, I’m still at work,” Gwen said into the receiver. “Sorry I couldn’t call earlier. It was a busy day.” To say the least. “You know how it gets over here… it’s just one thing after the next and I couldn’t get out before the storm and, well, it’s coming down hard out there.” 

“It is,” Rhys agreed. “So… I take it I won’t be seeing you for tonight’s episode of Wife Swap.”

“No, so sorry, love. I’m afraid I won’t make it and will be staying at the Hub tonight,” Gwen informed him. “But feel free to watch it tonight.”

“Nah, we’ve got a DVR. Might as well use it.” 

Gwen bit back a smile. “I love you, Rhys Williams,” she said fondly. 

“And I love you, Gwen Cooper,” Rhys replied, “but I’ll let you get back to saving the world for the rest of us.”

“The world better not need any more saving tonight,” Gwen muttered darkly. “I’ve already ruined three shirts today.” 

Rhys laughed. “I’ll hope for your sake that it’s a quiet night and no more shirts are ruined. Love you.” 

“Oh, one last thing, Rhys!” 

“Eh?”

“Jack sends his love,” Gwen said with a grin.

Rhys groaned. “Tell your captain to stuff it. Also, tell him that he owes us some money for an interior detailing at the shop. That alien… goop still hasn’t come out of the seat. Tell him I want the deep clean, not the standard!” 

“I’ll let him know and I’ll ask Ianto about the car,” Gwen said fondly. “Love you.” 

“Love you.” 

Gwen ended the call and returned with a slight smile on her face to where Tosh, Jack, and Owen were all busy pretending to have been doing something other than listening to her call.

“So, since we can’t leave… anyone hungry?” Ianto asked, breaking the awkward silence. 

“I’d kill for a bloody pizza,” Owen said. 

“I wouldn’t mind pizza either,” Tosh added and Owen gave her an approving nod.

“You’re in luck!” Jack said with a grin. “Well… sort of.” 

“Sort of? What’s that supposed to mean?” Owen asked with a furrowed brow. 

“We’ve got a few boxes of Hot Pockets,” Ianto said, “but no  _ actual _ pizza. Though we do have a microwave so we can actually cook them.”

“Hmm…. What flavors?” Tosh asked. 

“Cheese, cheese and pepperoni, or ham and cheese,” Ianto recited. 

“I’ll take one of each,” Owen said. 

“Tosh? Gwen?” Ianto turned to each of them in turn. 

“I’ll do the same,” Tosh said and Gwen nodded in agreement. 

A few minutes later, they were all seated around the boardroom table, devouring their steaming pizza pockets. 

They all scarfed their food down in silence since the Hoix had interrupted their lunch and they’d never gotten to finish the lasagna and, when they’d returned and locked the Hoix in a holding cell, they’d discovered that Myfanwy had a weakness for lasagna as well as dark chocolate. 

Once everyone had finished eating, Tosh and Jack volunteered to clean up while Owen, Gwen, and Ianto went to retrieve the cot and look for blankets. 

It was far too early to be going to bed but it was better to haul the cot up while they were still wide awake than to wait until just before bed because, judging by how the rest of the day had gone, the cot would surely need a slight repair before it could be used or the blankets would be found in a small puddle and need to be laid out to dry for a few hours.

Luckily, when they returned with the cot, armfuls of blankets, and even a few pillows, nothing seemed broken or wet. 

“So… anyone want a beer?” Owen offered.

They passed several hours slowly sipping beers and talking about nothing in particular. At some point, they had migrated from the table to the couch and now they were all sitting on or in front of the couch.

It was… nice. A change of pace for the better, Tosh thought, as she listened to Ianto and Gwen argue over Ianto’s tie choices. Jack had excused himself a few minutes ago and returned just in time to catch Gwen suggesting different tie patterns she thought Ianto would look good in.

“Thought we could do with some refreshments of the non-alcoholic variety,” Jack said as he set a tray of steaming mugs down on the floor in front of the couch. 

He distributed the mugs of hot chocolate, ensuring that each person received their preferred mug, and settled onto the floor, leaning back to occupy the space between Ianto’s legs. 

“Cheers,” Gwen said with a smile. 

“Cheers!” 

They all took a sip simultaneously. 

Tosh smiled. It was the perfect temperature and, she noted, her hot chocolate had the perfect amount of whipped cream on top. It turned out that Jack Harkness was the master of hot chocolate. 

She barely suppressed a laugh at the thought of Jack and Ianto opening a small coffee shop somewhere. Ianto would make the most flawless coffee which would draw flocks and flocks of people on their way to work in the early hours of the morning while Jack would make the best hot chocolate for those chilly days. Hot chocolate which would drive hordes and hordes of children to their little shop every afternoon after school let out. They’d argue each morning about whether they should hire a baker or continue making sub-par pastries themselves all while carefully rolling out the dough, shaping the pastries, and watching them rise in the oven. 

It was a nice thought but, at the same time, she couldn’t imagine them anywhere other than Torchwood. She couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else, for that matter. 

As much as they argued, as much as the work could be absolutely grueling and had surely taken years off her life due to the stress alone, this job was her life and these people were her family and she loved every minute of it.

“Alright there, Tosh?” Owen asked, interrupting her thoughts. 

She offered him a slight smile and nodded. “Just thinking.” 

“Well, don’t think too hard,” Owen warned. 

“I’ll try not to,” she replied lightly before taking another sip of her hot chocolate.

The conversation moved on to Myfanwy’s dietary needs (sure, she liked chocolate but was it actually good for her?), how often she needed to be bathed, and whether or not the insurance Ianto had bought for her was truly necessary.

At one point, Tosh noticed that Ianto had managed to get a little whipped cream on his face. She met his eyes and subtly gestured toward her face. 

She nearly laughed at the sudden flush that crept up Ianto’s neck as he hurriedly reached for a napkin to wipe the whipped cream off his upper lip. 

After he had returned the napkin to his lap, he flashed her a grateful smile which she returned.

By the time they were all starting to get tired, she was finally feeling warm again, between Owen’s sweatshirt, the alcohol and the hot chocolate, even though they had never found the source of the draft.

“Ianto, you take the couch,” Jack said as he stood up. “And that’s an order,” he added as he straightened his posture and adjusted his coat. 

“You take the couch; you’re the oldest,” Ianto retorted, ignoring Jack’s attempt at exercising authority. 

“Well, you’re the youngest,” Tosh said with a grin. “You should take it; it’s too late for the rest of our backs.” 

They quickly dissolved into a long argument during which several complicated processes and reasonings for determining who would get the bed were proposed. The reasons ranged from who actually did the most work (it was a toss-up between Tosh and Ianto), who was the most likely to need the loo in the middle of the night (Gwen), who was the boniest and therefor least pleasant to sleep next to (Owen), and who snored the loudest and would also be unpleasant to sleep next to (Jack). 

In the end, none of them took the couch. Instead, they settled into a nest of sleeping bags and sweaters just in front of the couch and fell asleep sprawled over each other.


End file.
